These words broke from him not without tears, though David was of no melting mood.
"And Effie--and Effie, dear father?" was Jeannie's eager question.
"You will never see her mair, my bairn," answered Deans, in solemn tones.
"She is dead! It has come ower late!" exclaimed Jeannie, wringing her hands.
"No, Jeannie, she lives in the flesh, and is at freedom from earthly restraint. But she has left her auld father, that has wept and prayed for her. She has left her sister, that travailed and toiled for her like a mother. She has made a moonlight flitting of it."
"And wi' that man--that fearfu' man?" said Jeannie.
"It is ower truly spoken," said Deans. "But never, Jeannie never more let her name be spoken between you and me."
The next surprise for Jeannie Deans was the appearance of Reuben Butler, who had been appointed by the Duke of Argyle to the kirk of Knocktarlitie, at Roseneath; and within a reasonable time after the new minister had been comfortably settled in his living, the banns were called, and long wooing of Reuben and Jeannie was ended by their union in the holy bands of matrimony.
Effie, married to Robertson, whose real name was Staunton, paid a furtive visit to her sister, and many years later, when her husband was no longer a desperate outlaw, but Sir George Staunton, and beyond anxiety of recognition, the two sisters corresponded freely, and Lady Staunton even came to stay with Mrs. Butler, after old Deans was dead.
A famous woman in society was Lady Staunton, but she was childless, for the child of her shame, carried off by gypsies, she saw no more.